The mist
by Toshokan
Summary: Panting, Hayato fell to the ground. There was a buzz in his ears that made it difficult to grasp what was going on around him.
1. The mist

The mist

Panting, Hayato fell to the ground.

There was a buzz in his ears that made it difficult to grasp what was going on around him. The incoherent pattern ringing in his ears was made up of slight variations between high buzz and low buzz. Hayato felt a slightly nauseating feeling creeping up his throat. He tried to force a heavy breath but found he couldn't catch much air.

The dense tension of just moments ago had all but evaporated in the crisp morning mist that hovered inches above the stony ground. It crossed Hayato's mind that it even managed to cover up most of his blood's smell.

As delicate, pale hands suddenly and urgently pressed down on his shoulder blades and as another heavy breathing crept closer and approached his already sore eardrums, Hayato couldn't help himself but ponder the irony of that mist. Hadn't it been there, the hunters might have actually found him. Instead of acting as a cover for him, it had been a perfect cover for _them_.

Whereas Hayato had expected the breathing to halt at the nape of his neck, instead it continued to trail upward, closing in on his face. In some faraway place, soundless seconds must have ticked away on an imaginary clockwork.

Face down, Hayato couldn't see anything. Not the bleak sky overhead or the shiny white boots of the man that pressed down on him. He couldn't see the marble teeth but suddenly felt them caressing his skin. He couldn't see that man's grin, but thought he heard a girlish chuckle.

All he could see was the mist, which turned black-red just moments later as fresh blood ran down his face, only to be sucked in by the unmoved earth.


	2. A room of my own

A room of my own

'Why, oh why did that baseball idiot have to come and look for me?'

Hayato sat huddled in a corner of a nearly empty room. The floor carried stains of an unidentifiable black substance and the curtains were drawn, only timidly allowing sunlight in from the frayed edges. The couch must have been white in its previous life and the air smelled slightly of sour milk and dust.

Only four hours earlier, Hayato had hurriedly agreed to rent this bleak room and moved in the moment the landlord had handed him the key. For four hours, from the moment he had closed the door behind him, Hayato had sat huddled in the corner, lost in dark and ever darkening thoughts.

And already his effort, the four long hours he had spent in this dirty room, had been wasted. For on the other side of the door, that baseball idiot was waiting for him to answer it.

Hayato clutched his knees and tried to bury his face. 'But even if I stay still and pretend not be here, the baseball idiot is not going to leave.' A shadowy smile pulled on the left corner of his mouth. 'That is, after all, the kind of person he is.'

Hayato heard the door creak open and felt the wooden floorboards tremble slightly under the tall man's weight. Hayato crammed his eyes shut but still heard the other's rhythmic breathing. He flinched when Takeshi put his hand on his shoulder.

'Gokudera.'

If only he had known beforehand that this single word could rip his insides apart like this. He would have preferred a dive from the fourth floor to this churning feeling. Hearing his own name reverberate in the dust-speckled air sent a rather violent shiver down his spine and he crammed his eyes even more shut, as if trying to drown out the sound with the light.

And then he became aware of the scent. A fresh scent with an undertone of musk had found its way to his nostrils. Within mere seconds, it overwhelmed his brain with a pleasant sensation akin to that of a shower right after morning practice. Hayato involuntarily felt his muscles relax and he could tell that the baseball idiot now squatting beside him broke a grin and folded his hands behind his head.

'This is not looking good.'

As if on cue, Hayato's heart started to beat wildly. What had only been a slightly annoying tickle in his throat had suddenly grown much stronger and he could feel his cheeks turn a shimmering red. His hands started to tremble. Before he could stop himself, he had already spoken his mind.

"This is bad!"

"Gokudera?"

"Get out of here, you baseball idiot! Get out now!"

The trembling feeling rapidly spread from his hands to his forearms, his elbows and his shoulders. His throat was now burning rather painfully.

"Just go, baseball idiot, go!"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Don't be stupid! Get out now or I'm seriously going to hurt you, I'll… " His voice faltered. "I'll really… "

"I know."

Before he could stop himself, Hayato's eyes flew wide open. For the second time today, simple words created a small shockwave in the pit of his stomach, one that rapidly rippled through his other intestines. This time, however, it wasn't even half as painful.

Instead of backing off, that baseball idiot had simply moved closer.

"If you know, then…"

"You can have it."

Briskly, Hayato turned his head and fixed his wide-eyed gaze on Takeshi. Takeshi steadily gazed back at him. Hayato blinked once. And then once again. 'No need for more words now,' was the one thought that flashed across his mind. He then slowly lowered his head to the point where it cast a dark shadow over his now vaguely glinting eyes, lifted his hands from his knees and let them rest on Takeshi's broad shoulders. He vaguely noticed that the trembling had stopped.

As if wondering what to do next, neither of them moved nor spoke for another minute. Suddenly snapping out of it, Hayato angrily dug his nails in Takeshi's shoulder blades and pulled him into an embrace. If Takeshi was shocked or even as much as surprised, he surely didn't show it.

Without any further thoughts, whether cheerful or dark, Gokudera Hayato lifted his face level to Takeshi's neck, stared at it for a while and bit down.


	3. In ruins

In ruins

'There is only moonlight and darkness. These stone ruins amid the trees belong to the darkness. Whereas I belong to the moonlight. And it is a beautiful moon tonight.'

Sitting on a crumbling boulder surrounded by sharp-edged weeds, Bel happily swung his legs to and fro. He was humming a song he had heard somewhere earlier. Each time his heels hit the rock a small portion would gently break off, roll down and disappear into the grey sands below.

'Yes, it is a beautiful moon tonight. Its haze is a bit diffuse. And it cruelly invades its borders much like a caged ball of sunlight would. It's clearly an angry moon tonight.'

On the horizon, nearly invisible rays of dawn had started to engulf thin strips of night. The pattern reminded Bel of the one made when softly piercing an artery and letting some of the blood flow across a victim's pale-skinned complexion. The mere thought of it sent a satisfying shiver through his body and he swiftly licked his somewhat protruding upper canine teeth.

Bel chuckled. He was bored now, but his boredom would soon be lifted. For right between the lingering darkness and the arrival of dawn, a morning mist was beckoning him.


End file.
